


Queen of Quills

by Lost_Muse



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Community: HPFT, Complete, Drama, Reflection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-25
Updated: 2016-04-25
Packaged: 2018-06-04 10:20:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6654130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lost_Muse/pseuds/Lost_Muse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rita Skeeter reflects on the life she has led.</p><p>One Shot | Complete</p>
            </blockquote>





	Queen of Quills

_Lovely banner by beyond the rain @ TDA!_

* * *

 

 

Remorse and guilt had always been emotions unbeknownst to Rita Skeeter. That’s what she had told herself all her life. Today, however, things seemed different.   
  
The hundred-and-eleven year old lady wiped her jewelled spectacles tiredly as she sank back against the armchair. Her long fingernails, once painted a bright scarlet, were now chipped, and the smooth skin she used to take pride over was wrinkled and rough.   
  
Rita sighed.  
  
After everything she had envisioned for and achieved in her life, this had been unexpected. She hadn’t noticed when old age had caught up with her, when the short bursts of pain had taken over her form, when her fatigue had become habitual. All she knew was that she was dying and that it didn’t feel good, not even one bit.   
  
The isolation seeped into her veins as she closed her eyes. There was nobody around to take care of her, to smother her with affection, to kiss her goodbye. No family, no friends. It would of course make for a great story - the celebrated Queen of Quills Rita Skeeter, once the sensationalist author, now reduced to a weak old woman with nothing to show for the glamorous life she had led.  
  
Indeed, a glamorous life it had been. Glamourous except for her childhood.   
  
Flashes of screaming parents, measly food, and hand-me-down clothes swam before her eyes and Rita shook her head. She didn’t know why such thoughts were taking refuge in her mind during these moments.   
  
She realised then that growing up, she had quickly latched on to gossip as the means to escape the misery of her own pathetic life. Her mother, being a pureblood, had always instilled in her to be on the top of things, to never settle for second best, to always have an advantage over the other person. All this after she had learnt her lesson from marrying a poor half-blood who could not afford the luxuries the mother and daughter desired.   
  
Rita remembered how, during her early Hogwarts years, she craved to be noticed, to be looked at, to be admired. She was the quiet girl in Slytherin, the one who was ignored by her peers like a fly on the wall, and it used to anger her to no end.   
  
Until she was the quiet one no more.   
  
Bits and pieces of a story overheard in the girls’ washroom in her third year, one she relayed to her dorm mates with excitement and exaggeration, changed everything. She had realised then what her niche could be and worked hard to fall into it.   
  
Soon, there was barely a piece of news that escaped Rita’s sharp ears. She relished in listening to and floating about the stories she learnt. It fascinated her and gave her immense pleasure when others would crowd around her to listen to the ‘latest piece of news that Skeeter has scooped.’ It made her feel powerful. It finally gave her the advantage she’d wanted.   
  
Rita smiled at the memory. Yes, those were the good days. Innocent garnering of information, a little bit of added spice, and you had the perfect news ready to gain just the right kind of attention.   
  
Of course, she hadn’t realised when the innocent garnering became a craving, when the added spice turned into vindictiveness, and when she learnt that the more sensational the piece of information, the more it drew eyes and ears.   
  
None of that mattered though. What mattered was that by seventh year, Rita Skeeter had become the Queen of Gossip, and with her knack for writing, the Queen of Quills soon after. Her rise to fame had not been easy, sniffing out secrets and using them in just the right manner, but the money and attention that came from her scandalous articles had made it seem all worth it.   
  
Rita remembered being honoured by the  _Daily Prophet_  for selling some of their best stories, seeing her Gringotts gold mount up every month, sinking her teeth into the juiciest of gossips every day, and brazenly enjoying life. Her idea to turn into an animagus had been the jackpot that had made her famous in the writing world; after all  _her_  quill could come across things that no one else’s could.   
  
Yes, all that had been well and good. She had only hit a minor snag when the now-war-heroine Hermione Granger had uncovered her dirty little secret and blackmailed her, but she managed to overcome that too. There was no way she could have been defeated by a fourteen-year-old, and that year was one memory Rita liked to keep out of her mind.   
  
Until today that was.   
  
For some terrible reason, one particular phrase that the girl had said all those years ago refused to abandon her thoughts today.  _“You horrible woman. You don't care, do you, anything for a story, and anyone will do, won't they?”*_  
  
Rita had brushed aside the comment on her character and ethics then. Now though, she was forced to think. She had really done anything for a story, never caring about a single soul besides herself, wanting to sell and earn and be lauded.   
  
And where had that gotten her? Alone in her large house, with no one to talk to as she whittled away in her old age, with nothing to do except read the works she had produced. She had been horrible, not caring. And now? Years and years of living and experiencing, and yet she could not say one person existed who cared about poor old Skeeter. She had lost all friends along the way, barely made any in fact, and she had nobody to call family. She had never cared, and today, there was no one to care for her.   
  
As Rita’s gaze shifted to the bookshelf lined with many of her works, she realised with horror that what she had taken pride in once now made her cringe. Her quill had proved to be her enemy. The gossip that had once been an escape had her trapped in seclusion. And the lives she had slandered seemed to be mocking her.  
  
A bitter smile crossed her lips. Indeed,  _Rita Skeeter: Queen of Quills or Rejected Outcast?_ could make for a bestseller today. 

**Author's Note:**

> *Direct Quote taken from Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. All content property of JKR.


End file.
